


the light behind your eyes

by softtcas



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Finale What Finale, First Kiss, Fix-It, Getting Together, M/M, Post-Episode: s15e19 Inherit the Earth, part barn scene of 15x20
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-17 07:42:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29221884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softtcas/pseuds/softtcas
Summary: Someone’s walking towards them slowly.“Hello? Are you there?”“Umm. My brother, he–” The phone slips from his hand and falls to the ground when Sam recognizes the figure walking over. “Cas?”Dean thinks he’s hallucinating. Or dead. Yeah, he definitely must be dead already. This, this can’t be happening. There’s no way that’s Cas who’s coming straight for him. He saw him die. He saw it. He feels Cas pull him from the rebar, then the light brush of a finger against his temple, and when the pain subsides, he knows it’s true; it’s Cas. “You...”(or, the one where Cas saves Dean in the barn)
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 16
Kudos: 244





	the light behind your eyes

**Author's Note:**

> hi hello this is partly the result of a sleepless night in which i have spent 4 hours writing this and also the result of the shit show that was the finale. we choose not to acknowledge its entire existence in this realm (though i have taken liberty to start this little thing in the barn).
> 
> title is from [the light behind your eyes](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZSg-eHng52E) by my chemical romance, which i listened to right before i started writing. maybe it fits maybe it don't, who knows :)
> 
> thank you to [amy](https://donestiel.tumblr.com) for being a true hero and for beta reading! hah <3

A simple hunt, a vampire nest. Nothing they haven’t done in the past fifteen years. They fought _God_ himself and won, and this is what kills him? No, absolutely not. But when he feels the rebar pierce right through his back, he thinks this is it. He tries to reach for it; tries to feel where, _what_ it hit, with his hand. There’s blood, he lets his fingers feel it, but it’s not a lot. _Deep breath_ , he thinks. _Didn’t hit the lungs. There’s no blood coming from my mouth, either_. Organs should be fine, then. Nothing too life-threatening. Though if they didn’t get him to a hospital fast, possibly that too.

“Sammy,” he chokes on a sob. “Sam, you have to call 911.” He looks at his brother, the machete still in his right hand. Sam nods then; the clatter of the blade falling to the ground startling a little in the quiet of the barn. Frantic hands covered in blood trying to unlock the phone.

Sam takes a deep breath as the phone rings and he hears the dispatcher say “911, what is your emergency?”, but something catches his eye. Some _one’s_ walking towards them slowly.

“Hello? Are you there?”

“Umm. My brother, he–” The phone slips from his hand and falls to the ground when Sam recognizes the figure walking over. “Cas?”

Dean thinks he’s hallucinating. Or dead. Yeah, he definitely must be dead already. This, _this_ can’t be happening. There’s no way that’s Cas who’s coming straight for him. He saw him die. He _saw_ it. He feels Cas pull him from the rebar, then the light brush of a finger against his temple, and when the pain subsides, he _knows_ it’s true; it’s Cas. “You...”

He sees more than hears Sam picking up his phone and explaining - or lying – to the dispatcher in his peripherals. He sees him hang up, then reluctantly shove his phone back in his pocket.

“Hello, Dean.” There’s a soft smile, playing only around his mouth, the Angel’s face otherwise serious. Dean gasps, the familiarity of Cas’ voice makes his heart clench.

“I saw you die,” Dean grits out reluctantly. He doesn’t want it to sound as heartbroken as it does. He wants to be pissed off, angry. But really, all he feels is relief.

“Well,” Cas scratches the back of his neck, then lowers his gaze to look at his feet. “I was. Dead, I mean. When... After you defeated Chuck, Jack brought me back,” Cas straightens his posture, and looks back up at Dean, “and we have been work–”

“ _He brought you back?_ ” Dean interrupts incredulous, his voice loud. He takes a step closer to Cas, staring at him. His lips, his eyes, the way his shoulders are still hunched a little. It’s all Cas. “He...”, Dean clears his throat, “Sorry, did you say he brought you back? And you didn’t think to, I dunno, _let us know_?” Dean feels his anger take over and he stabs a finger against Cas’ chest. “I watched you _die_ , I watched you be taken by the Empty, and you didn’t even think to let me know that you were okay? After you–after you told me that–” Dean huffs and turns away, doesn’t want Cas to see the hurt in his eyes take over. Cas knows Dean’s anger. He doesn’t need to see his hurt.

Cas puts a hand on Dean’s shoulder, but Dean pulls away quickly, can’t stand that Cas’ hand brings up the familiarity of his touch. “ _Don’t_ you touch me,” he hisses and Castiel gnaws at his lower lip. His arm is still right where he wanted to hold Dean. Dean knows Cas meant it as a reassuring gesture, but it only felt belittling.

“Sam, could you wait in the car?” Dean says, doesn’t want Sam to see all this. Doesn’t want Sam to _know_ all this. He knows the basics, and that’s enough. Dean pulls the car keys from his pockets, tosses them to Sam and he catches them easily. He leaves without another word.

“I helped Jack,” Cas states. Simple, as it is. A fact. Dean knows it’s more than that, though. It’s an argument. It’s an excuse; an explanation for why he couldn’t be down here, but Dean doesn’t want to listen to it.

He feels thrown back to that Godawful day. It’s still there, hovering over him, and it still takes his breath away. Cas had looked happy, and content, like it didn’t even matter that he had to leave him. Like it was okay to die. And it was, for Castiel it was okay to die that day because it was for Dean, he knows that much now. But for Dean, when Cas was gone, everything else didn’t matter anymore. His heart races, and there’s cold sweat pooling at his hairline. _Breathe_ , he thinks. _In through the nose, out through the mouth_. He repeats it, five times, _in through the nose_ , _out through the mouth_ , for good measure. Finally, he looks up to where Cas is still standing still.

“Cas, you told me that you _loved_ me. You told me your true happiness was telling me, _no_ , was just _saying_ that you loved me.” Dean shakes his head, thumb and trigger finger pulling at his upper lip.

“Yes, Dean. I remember.”

“Cas, but do you? Because I don’t think you do. You can’t. Because you, you weren’t the one who got left behind! Again! I lost you _. Again_! And I didn’t even–I didn’t, I couldn’t. I lost you again, and I wasn’t okay. I’m not okay, Cas. I prayed to you, man. All the time! Hoping, begging, pleading that somehow you would wake up, and you’d come back, just like you always do. But you didn’t. I know _you_ did this to save me, and the world, but I need you to know that you didn’t save me that day.”

Dean takes a deep breath, and the words leaving his mouth next feel like venom on the tip of his tongue. “I was dead. The minute you decided to summon the Empty, _you_ killed me.”

He turns away again, wishing he was strong enough not to, wishing he was strong enough to see the look in Cas’ eyes, but he isn’t, because when he closes his eyes, he feels the tears roll down his face freely without his consent. He wipes them away with the back of his hand. It’s better he stays like this.

“You died being at peace with yourself, Cas,” he says, voice grief-stricken, and heavy with tears. “Good for you. But you left me alone in the aftermath of it.”

Dean knows he isn’t fair about this, not entirely. He knows that, maybe, no, surely, there was no other way than this. Not without knowing then what he knows now. But it’s been months since they defeated Chuck, and so it’s been months since Jack brought Castiel back, and he didn’t think to tell him.

“I didn’t think you would care this much.” Castiel’s voice comes from the left behind him, “I am sorry, Dean. I– I thought it would be best if I stayed away.”

Dean huffs, again, but doesn’t say anything. This was his fault, too. _The one thing I want, it’s something I know I can’t have_ , he recalls in his mind, and he feels the pain of it deep in his bones. He wishes he could forget. Cas thought he didn’t love him. Thought that this – _they_ – could never have been more. And he knows that’s because of him.

Because Cas _didn’t_ know. Cas doesn’t know that when Lucifer put the Angel blade through his chest, Dean had wished he’d died with him; doesn’t know that Dean sunk to his knees next to Cas’ lifeless body; doesn’t know that the image of Castiel’s broken wings burned into the sand still haunt him in his nightmares. He doesn’t know that he was the one who prepared his body for the pyre. He doesn’t know that hours before Castiel called, Dean didn’t care if Billie would send him back or not. He doesn’t know that every time Cas died, a piece of Dean died with him. He doesn’t know that even though Cas came back, those pieces of him stayed dead.

“Cas, I–“ Dean starts, nervously playing with his fingers. He turns around and sees Castiel’s eyes shimmer with tears.

“Of _course_ I cared!” Dean shifts his weight apprehensively from one leg to the other and back again, then takes a swift step forward. “You don’t think you changed me, Cas?” _Too close_ , he thinks when he sees piercing blue eyes staring right into his soul. _Too close. Get back._

He shifts away from Cas then; paces around the barn anxiously. It’s ironic, Dean thinks, that they’ve chosen here, the place where he almost bit the dust, to discuss their feelings. Or at least that’s what Dean is _trying_ to do here. He’s not entirely sure he’s succeeding with it. He knows he’s beating around the bush, trying to avoid the inevitable by shifting the blame onto Castiel. He’s working up the courage to say it, to say what he _wanted_ to say in Purgatory.

He’s wondering, now. Did Cas not know how he felt? Did Cas really not know that his mind was screaming _I love you, I love you, I love_ you at the top of its lungs; spreading from the pit of his stomach to the deepest parts of his heart? That he was ready? Right there in Purgatory? Did Castiel really not know?

“You really think you can save me from Hell, and not change me?”

“I–“, Cas tries but Dean shushes him quickly and the Angel nods quietly.

“No! You don’t get to talk right now. Jack saved you, Cas! He _saved_ you, and you really thought I wouldn’t care enough for you to let me know you’re okay.”

A surge of anger runs through him and Dean slams his fist against the pillar and yelps in pain, regretting it instantly. “Son of a bitch!”

Castiel is close to him, too close again, in seconds and Dean looks to his side, staring at Castiel in pained disbelief. It’s the first time this night that Cas is _this_ close and he acknowledges it, not pushing him away or walking away himself, and Dean thinks he could pass out on the spot from the proximity. Cas’ eyes still shine so bright, the ocean blue so clear it makes him want to sink into them and never come back up for air. There are crinkles next to his eyes, soft and shallow, and Dean wonders if Cas chose to age his vessel. It would only take him a second to touch Cas’ cheek, trace a thumb along his jaw. It would only take him a small burst of courage to kiss him.

Dean looks away.

Courage isn’t something he has.

“Allow me,” Castiel breathes and Dean nods. He feels Cas’ grace pool and then surge through his body, healing his fractured hand. Cas smiles at him.

Dean wants to smile back. He swallows, and steps back. It’s too close, too much.

It hurts.

“I can come back tomorrow, if you would like to continue this conversation.” Cas says, and Dean frowns at him. He didn’t even–

“I feel your reluctance, Dean. I know Sam is waiting in the car, and I know it’s late. I know that despite my healing, you’re still worn out and tired. I know you don’t want to talk about this right now.” Cas still smiles, and Dean wishes he wouldn’t.

“You can…” Dean takes a deep breath. _Courage_ , he thinks. _You can do this_. “You could come to the bunker with us.”

There’s a shyness in his question that Dean doesn’t understand.

“I would love that.”

They walk to the Impala in silence, their pinkies touching at one point, unwillingly, and Dean feels like he’s struck by lightning. Castiel only pulls his hand away quickly and continues to look at his feet. Dean doesn’t know whether to feel lucky or hurt.

Sam doesn’t say anything when Dean opens the driver’s door to get into the Impala. He’s listening to a podcast, Dean assumes. Their dad’s journal is spread open in Sam’s lap. He’s grown to resent it.

“Put it away.” Dean’s voice is stern, and it makes Sam flinch, ripping the earphones from his ears. “ _Put it away!_ ”

Sam does as he is told and looks back to Cas, sitting in the back seat, his hands folded in his lap. “Hey, Cas. Welcome home.”

Dean scoffs next to him.

The drive back to the bunker is awkward at best. After 50 miles, Sam asks if they should listen to some music, but he’s only met with silence. Dean grits his teeth and shakes his head, while Cas shrugs his shoulders.

Dean’s eyes are fixed on the road, but Sam can see they’re brimmed with tears. A quiet sob escapes Dean’s throat unwillingly.

40 miles later, Dean pulls over, and he stops the car at the side of the road. He takes a deep breath and asks Sam to drive. Sam agrees and doesn’t ask any questions.

Cas’ eyes are closed in the back seat, but they both know he’s not sleeping, just giving them their privacy.

Dean leans his head against the window. It’s cold against his temple, and the sensation calms him down. He wishes he would fall asleep quickly, so that he doesn’t have to think about Cas, sitting in the back seat of his dead father’s car. He wishes his soul wouldn’t tug at him, begging for him to be closer, closer, _closer_ to Cas. He wishes his heart would stop racing like it’s run a marathon whenever Cas is close. He wishes his mind would stop yelling _shame_ , _shame_ , _shame_ at the top of its lungs.

He wishes he had time to prepare for this.

****

When Dean wakes up in the bunker’s garage, Sam is shaking his left shoulder cautiously. “We’re home.” Sam smiles at him, then at Cas in the back and gives Dean back the keys. “I’ll... I’ll leave you to it,” he says.

Dean nods, groggily rubbing his eyes, stifling a yawn. “Thanks.”

It takes Dean a minute to realize they’re alone again, and he stiffens. Why can’t this be easy?

“Are you sure I am welcome?”

Dean scoffs, and Castiel tenses in the back seat. “I meant–“

“I know what you meant. Yes, you are. Your–“ Dean opens the car door and gets out, his joints cracking with every move. He pinches the bridge of his nose and exhales sharply.

Cas follows him out of the car seconds later.

“Your room is still– uh. It’s still like you left it.”

Castiel nods, and something in Cas’ gaze shifts, and Dean thinks, for the first time, he might realize how important he is.

“Thank you, Dean. I will leave you to sleep now.”

Dean opens his mouth, but he doesn’t have the courage to say the words he wants to say, so he leaves it at _“Goodnight_ ”.

_Coward_ , he thinks. He sees Cas leave, and _do it_ , his soul calls out.

But he doesn’t.

Suddenly, the weight of the day crashes over him, and it brings him to his knees.

Cas is back. He looks up at the ceiling. _Thank you_ , he prays. _You’re doing good, kiddo. Sorry I made it seem like you didn’t deserve to have Cas with you. ‘Course you do. I just._ Dean knows it’s foolish to stop his thoughts, because Jack _knows_ , he _knows_ it, and he doesn’t judge him. No one does.

_I just missed him._

Tired feet carry him to his room, and he sloppily brushes his teeth and quickly changes into a t-shirt and boxers and flops down onto the bed. The covers are cold, and they feel nice against his warm skin.

He falls asleep faster than he thought he would.

****

He wakes up with a throbbing headache, a dry throat and the dooming knowledge that just 30 feet away, Cas is in his room, waiting. He swallows an Advil with a glass of water and hopes for the best.

Dragging himself to his bathroom, Dean turns on the shower, jumping under it to quickly rinse off the dirt and grime from the barn. When he’s done, he puts a towel around his hips and looks in the mirror.

_You can do this_ , he says to his reflection. _You love him. You can do this._

It’s the first time in a while he’s allowed himself to think it. Allowed himself to feel it fully. It surfaced in Purgatory when he prayed to Cas, thinking it might be too late­­­­. He’d forgiven Cas then and ­he feels foolish now for being angry in the first place – but he shoved it back down; that feeling. It surfaced again when Cas confessed to him. It unfurled and bloomed in his chest and spread through his whole body; made its home in even the darkest places in him and asked to stay. He allowed it to.

For a while, it gave him courage, and it gave him motivation. If they’d just get Cas back, he could tell him. He would tell him. But the longer they tried, and the more time passed, grief and despair started to grow in places that once were light and turned them dark again. So he decided that it was time to shove those feelings down once more, store them away for the darkest days with too much Whiskey where thinking about Cas didn’t hurt.

Cas is here now, though. And it changes everything, because they start to bloom again, and Dean doesn’t know if he’s strong enough to stop from watering them anymore.

There’s a faint knock on his door, and Dean’s not sure if he’s ready. He knows he’s not.

“Just, just a second,” he says more to himself than anyone else. _Courage_ , he thinks. _You love him._

He searches through his drawer, pulls out sweatpants and a black t-shirt and puts them on quickly before opening the door.

Cas stands there, awkwardly. _It’s just Cas_ , Dean thinks. But when has Cas ever been _just_ Cas? He’s not been _just_ Cas since he pulled him from Hell, he’s not been just Cas since Purgatory. He’s never been _just_ Cas. Castiel isn’t wearing his usual attire, just a simple white t-shirt and some black jeans, and Deans thinks, without a doubt, he’s doing this to torture him. He feels his hands start sweating and pushes them against each other. His heart starts racing. He takes a deep breath as he steps aside to let Cas in.

“Hello.” Cas’ voice sounds small, nothing like usual Cas, and he looks around Dean’s room nervously. “Did you sleep well, Dean?”

Dean knows, and partly appreciates it – _Cas_ \- for trying to make small talk, trying to find an ice breaker for this situation, but he can’t be bothered with it. There’s a tug at his heart, and it hurts, and he can’t pretend that he’s okay. He’s been pretending all his life and he's too old to do it now.

Dean turns to face Cas, determination set on his face. Or at least he hopes so. “Did you really not know, Cas?”

Cas looks down. “I didn’t want to assume.”

Dean scoffs, taking a bold step towards Cas. _Courage_ , he thinks. _This is good._ They’re closer now, but not close enough.

“I _am_ new to all this.” Castiel looks back up, and his eyes bore into Dean’s, and he, too, takes a step closer.

Dean can feel the heat radiating off Cas’ body now, can hear his hitched breathing. Dean still thinks that Cas is not close enough.

“I want–“ Dean starts. If he’d take one more step now, just one small step, he’d be in Cas’ personal space. He could grasp for Cas’ hand now and lace their fingers with each other. _Oh God,_ he thinks. His heart is going to stop. They need to talk first. They need to. Dean knows it, but Cas is too close, and it’s only this one step and he could–

“Yes, Dean?” Castiel asks. “What is it that you want?”

Dean takes the step.

Their faces are close now. Close to each other, so close that if Castiel moved his face just right, their noses could brush against each other. Dean feels Cas’ breath against his lips, and he closes his eyes. “Kiss me?”

It sounds more like a question than the request he wanted it to be, and Cas’ hand finds Dean’s jawline in answer; his thumb tracing along the stubble there, the rest of his hand following quickly to cradle Dean’s face. It’s enough to take away Dean’s remaining reservation and he tosses it as far from his mind as possible; hopes it never comes back.

When their lips finally, _finally_ meet, Dean’s world stops spinning. He doesn’t know how to feel, or what to feel. He knows his heart hammers against his chest in staccato. He knows that Cas’ left hand is still cradling his face.

He knows it’s _right_.

A smile starts building, working its way free, up to his face, and he can feel Cas smile against his lips, and then their teeth bump against each other clumsily and, much to Dean’s regret, they break the kiss. He can hear Cas giggle, and then laughs, too.

Dean stares at Cas, and Cas stares right back. There’s a softness in Cas’ gaze that hasn’t been there before. Or maybe Dean just didn’t see it.

He thinks that there have been many things he didn’t see. Too many damn things he didn’t say. It’s time to change that now.

He thinks. He thinks he finally knows how to make this right.

_Courage_ , he thinks. _You love him_.

“I love you, too.” Dean says, and it blooms from the pit of his stomach all the way up to his heart, into his face until the blush starts spreading from his neck to his cheeks up to his hairline.

Dean knows it’s not going to be easy, because when has their life ever been easy? Love isn’t easy. But he knows with absolute certainty that it’s worth it. _Cas_ is worth it.

He looks up at the ceiling, a silent wish for them to be outside right now. He wishes he could look up at the sky and see the stars and know that Jack sees them. _You did it_ , he prays, then to Cas, “I hope he can hear me.”

He feels a little silly for saying it, but Cas only pulls him closer, and Dean buries his face in the crook of Cas’ neck and places a kiss there. He can feel Cas squirm under the touch and places another one right next to it. And another one. His hand grasp into Cas’ t-shirt, and when Cas answers, “he does”, Dean smiles.

_We’ll be okay._

**Author's Note:**

> you made it! i need you all to know that i really wanted dean to talk about it. i do! but he just didn't let me. whenever i started, he just said no thank you, i will not talk about this. anyways, thank you for sticking with me through this, heh. if you liked it i very much appreciate your kudos or a little comment.
> 
> you can also reblog it on [tumblr](https://deansplushy.tumblr.com/post/642300733074587648/the-light-behind-your-eyes) if you fancy that!


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